


goodnight, gotham

by redtruthed



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Red Hood and the Outlaws #25, Fix-it fic, Gen, Post RHATO 25, Sadness, sorry in advance, this was a writing warmup that got out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtruthed/pseuds/redtruthed
Summary: In the wake of shooting penguin, Jason Todd's world is torn to shreds. And perhaps found again.(Alternatively: how the events of Rhato #24-25 SHOULD have occured/ended.)





	goodnight, gotham

It was done.

There was a great thump as Penguin hit the ground. And then nothing. It was as if the world fell silent in shock. As the fog cleared, Jason stood there alone. The officers rushed in around him, guns to the ready, mouths spitting words of anger and punishment. But Jason was unable to hear them. There was nothing in his head. Nothing but cold, twirling grief- grief that pulled his ribs tight and his mouth open slack.

He watched the colour seep from Penguin's face. He watched the blood spread. He watched Penguin's expression, once cocky, melt into a faded, lifeless mask. This had been all he wanted. All he'd ever strived for. And now it was here. 

Jason looked down at his shaking, gloved hands. He dropped the gun within them. An officer on his left went in to grab him, but Jason ducked. Jason was on autopilot now. Jason was an unfeeling, unbreathing machine. Jason needed to think. Jason needed to flee. It was as if another person was controlling him- as if all of his thoughts, all that he had ever been and could hope to be- had been drained down to this. Jab to the first officer's neck. Dodge right, avoid the bullet. Kick to the second officer's stomach. Move fast. Create a path. Clear a path. Find a way.

Bruce's voice was clear in his mind now. The one immovable constant. He was thirteen again, in the cave. Learning to cartwheel instead of running away from a murder. _Left foot first. Then, the right. Then, again._ _And again. And again._

He was on his motorbike before he'd even noticed it- the cops not far behind. There wasn't enough air to breathe, but Jason didn't need air to do this. He didn't need thought. He was a kid from Crime Alley, stealing a bike for the first time, cackling as the engine let out a great roar and the ten year old with nothing had suddenly become a valiant warrior on horseback, an unstoppable prince, a faultless king-

The bike stopped dead. Jason looked up. He was in an alley now. His thoughts were beginning to return. The feeling was starting to return to his limbs. The air, although limited, was drifting along his skin again, reminding him painfully of the sweat he'd broken out into.

"Fuck," he said, hands trembling. " _Fuck."_

He reached for the comm link on his helmet and tried to breathe. There were sirens blazing all around. Gotham was burning. And it was all Jason's fault.

Again.

Forever.

Always.

"Artemis?" He tried, when his fingers finally found the comm link. "B?"

Nothing but static. Nothing but empty. Jason looked at his hands again and tried to figure out if he was dreaming. He could barely hear his own voice. The clouds were falling down on his head. And his heartbeat, from where it wavered within his chest, was panicked.

"If you can hear me-" He tried, tried through the trembling of his lips and the swirled chaos of his brain- "I mucked up big time. And I need- I need-"

His hand fell from the helmet. Above him, there came a flare of burning light. A cube, a building, hishome, _their_ home _-_ was spiralling down, through the clouds, and into the endless city. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing but think and yell and cry. Before his eyes, the sky was splitting in half.

-

"And don't-  _ever_  - call me princess," Artemis said.

She grabbed onto his collar, and before Jason could even process what was going on, she was disappearing, and he was flying...air hitting his body like a truck, limbs going numb with the thrill and the cold of the night. And then he landed.

"Artemis?" He said, in a daze.

And then he looked up. 

The cube was nothing more than a spiral of glowing glass. A whirlwind of air and heat and darkness. Not anything he could recognise. Not anything he could touch. Not anything he could save- but he tried anyway, he fired grapples and pleas and hopes-

But eventually he was just left standing there. His hand, outstretched, to the stars. The night growing colder and colder. And their home...Jason's teammates...were gone.

He gazed up in disbelief. And then he choked out a sob, falling lifelessly to the floor. His knees were buckled and numb beneath him. His life was in ashes. And the only people who had never abandoned him- never, ever- were missing. Dead. Lost. And it was all his fault. If he'd been there- if he'd forgotten about Willis, if he'd moved on, if he'd thought differently...the world would've been different too.

"Jason?"

The voice shocked him out of his sorrow, and for the first time in minutes, Jason looked up. He didn't move any more than that. He couldn't. His bones were fused still, and he felt as though if he did any more than that, he was going to collapse completely.

"Jason? The Penguin- what-" 

Bruce didn't come fully into Jason's line of vision, which meant he was looking at something else. Jason heard him stoop, saw him pick up a shard of glass from the rooftop. He'd picked up a part of their home. A home that no longer existed. A place Jason thought he'd be able to keep safe.

"If you're going to gloat, then get it over with," Jason said, miserably.

"Jason," Bruce kneeled in front of Jason, and Jason couldn't meet his eye. "What happened?"

Jason didn't answer. He _couldn't_. Because he knew where this was going...Bruce was going to find out, and then he was going to be cast out, and then everything they'd ever tried to build again was going to lie in ashes, and then...

"Jay," Bruce's voice was soft yet stern. "I know it's hard. But you need to focus. Focus on _me."_

Jason broke at that. He dipped his head down and pulled his arms around himself. Breathing was hard. Confronting the truth was even harder.

"They're- gone," he said. "The base...it imploded. I don't know why. I couldn't- I couldn't-"

"Who?"

"A-Artemis, and, and-" Jason sucked in a breath and didn't let it go. He didn't know how, suddenly. It was too much. The world was just too much. "It's all my fault, Bruce."

"Jason," Bruce's hands rested on either one of his shoulders. "Breathe."

"I can't," Jason shook his head. "It's my fault. It's all my fucking fault."

Bruce's hands lifted to the back of Jason's head. It took Jason longer than it should've to realise that Bruce was taking the helmet off. Fresh air rushed upon Jason's skin. His cheeks were wet, and his shoulders were shaking still. Seeing Bruce's face this close just made him start crying again. He'd failed him, all over again. Jason couldn't take it.

"Breathe, Jay," Bruce said, voice quiet and clinical. "It's okay. It's alright."

"Okay," Jason stammered, looking down. "Okay."

Bruce watched him for a moment. And then he reached over and drew Jason into his arms. It was a warmth Jason had forgotten. Around them, the air blew bitter and cold. Jason trembled as he rested his bare face onto Bruce's hard, armoured shoulder, and drew a sharp breath in. He didn't trust himself enough to put his arms around his father. Jason had broken enough that night. He couldn't stand to break any more. Bruce pressed one gloved hand to Jason's back, and the other into his hair. They stayed like that for a moment. And then Jason drew away, helplessly crying, the shock of what he'd done pressing in.

"I killed Penguin," he said, voice thick with tears. "I shot him."

"I know," Bruce said. Jason couldn't read his expression, so Jason knew he'd hurt him.

"He was the reason my- my dad was-" Jason looked down. "He was the reason Willis left. And without him- my mom, she just-"

"It's okay, Jason," Bruce put a hand on Jason's shoulder again. But Jason couldn't take it.

"Please just take me away," Jason pleaded. "To Arkham, to prison- anywhere."

"Jason," Bruce's voice was stern now. "You're not going to Arkham. Or prison."

Jason looked up then. "What?"

"We're going to deal this like a family," Bruce said. "After the air has cleared. Not...now."

"So it's a vote, then?" Jason asked. "Like what happened with Kate. But with me."

The only difference was that the family _liked_ Kate. They didn't like him, and wouldn't, certainly after they'd learned what he did, and no-one would ever, ever speak in his favor, and he'd be tossed away all over again, the disappointment no-one believed in the first place, the outlaw that didn't belong-

"Jay, please," Bruce put his other hand on Jason's shoulder. "Let me talk. Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

The night grew still. Above, there came a rumble. The sky had clouded over without Jason noticing. Soon, there would be rain. He could feel the static in the air. He knew the downpour was coming, just as he'd known all of those years before, when Jason was living on the street, damning the world and trying- desperately, again and again- to find shelter.

"It's going to be alright, Jay," Bruce said. "You need to trust me."

"You can't just let me back in like this," Jason said, in saddened awe. "I _killed_ someone. I broke the promise."

"I don't care about the promise," Bruce said. His grip on Jason's shoulders was impossibly tight. "I care about you."

Jason swayed into Bruce's arms again, felt the rain start trickling down, and thought that he could've died like that. He remembered dying, the last time. The breath sinking in his throat. Bruce scooping him out of the rubble, hope slipping away, the world growing darker and darker and darker...

"You are my son," Bruce said, and already, Jason could sense a new problem being made. "And no matter what. I will always- _always-_ be here to protect you."

Jason's face crumpled in grief. The impact of what he'd done hit him again. Cobblepot was dead. Blood was on Jason's hands. Again.

"Oh _God,"_ he said, wavering. "Bruce. What did I- I-"

"It's okay, Jay," Bruce placed his chin upon Jason's shoulder then, and the world finally stopped caving in. "It's alright. I've got you."

Jason stared into nothing. Jason closed his eyes. And around him, the rain and the dark and the cold and the light of Gotham City drew to a momentarily peaceful close.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck u scotty lobdell


End file.
